Stranded Moniker
by Kiba Sniper
Summary: She is no longer Arle Nadja, not anymore, but it's okay. The doppelganger can finally become someone entirely new.


(Based on the GBC version of Puyo Puyo~n.)

Stranded Moniker

A name is sacred. It is a personal identifier, a representation of one's self. It is the first jurisdiction one has for themself, a birthright they may change as they see fit. It carries weight, a boulder's worth of history, pain, and love all situated on the back of one vessel. Names may be shared among coincidences, but the person is unique, filled to the brim and overflowing like a cresting wave as they live and washing over with white foam at the very end of their existence.

She had been Arle Nadja, but that name no longer belongs to her. It is the name of the one she cruelly called her usurper, her other half who truly deserves such a blessed name. Her name is worthy of sincerity and prestige, respect and boldness, one which Arle exemplifies.

She is no longer worthy of such a revered title. She has committed sins and toiled in chaotic vengeance. The doppelganger is tainted, a stain upon the name's legacy. Arle must clean her name red and raw with uncontaminated hands, with fingers free of someone else's blood from the sins of the doppelganger. The other one is not to be trusted anymore with such a honorable name, one echoed by villagers with high acclaim. Even though they are all ignorant of the centuries worth of pain and suffering wiped clean like a slate in the new world, one which only the doppelganger remembers, she cannot become Arle Nadja anymore.

Her former enemy deemed her "doppelganger." He welcomed her into the world to satisfy his guilty conscience. By that time, he had scooped out all of the impurities of the former world and made it, in his own unheard opinion, good. His realm, his creations, his godliness would not be challenged by the doppelganger even when she possessed his mind and forced him to bow.

Still, she is not the one who will carry that name., Despite her torment and isolation of wasting away into a warped caricature of her former self, the one who was once worthy of being Arle Nadja is an outlier. She shares the features of Arle Nadja, used to be part of the same soul as Arle Nadja, but she is her own person created from agonizing battles, whimsical adventures, and lost love never to be returned. Trapped in a void, gazing at nothingness, the one once called Arle Nadja was killed in the final battle with the Creator.

Arle Nadja has friends. She is alone. Arle Nadja is a hero. She used to claim that title hundreds of years ago, but she is a blight upon the name once held dear to her heart. Her sins culminated and drowned her under their deep pressure. They took a human form and wrapped tendrils around her neck and strangled until her vision swarm and lights popped like murky bubbles, but she could never die.

Yet, she had been given mercy in a world made to detest her. Arle had forgiven her. She granted clemency to the doppelganger who had simply wanted to exist in a world where none would accept her. Offering the chance to reinvent herself as her own unique person had been the greatest gift Arle could give her despite her own ignorance about the truth.

Arle leaves with Carbuncle after the ringmaster makes him appear in an amusing trick, and he ventures with them, casting her one solemn look. The shadows of the circus tent draw closer as they vanish from her sight. The shouts and cheers of former friends echo. They congratulate Arle for her victory, her triumph over the clown who only wanted what had once belonged to her in another life, in another time.

The doppelganger remains. Voices become whispers whistled by the nipping wind. She gazes down at her armor and runs her palm, calloused and sore, along the cracks carved into her chestplate. With a sharp press of her palm and a burst of fiery light, the slashes fix themself like threads forcing a garment back together.

Under the dim, dying lights she marches and ponders. Choosing a name is the one tether she has to his realm. She can no longer be Arle Nadja, the world will not accept it, but she is free to become someone entirely new.

She peeks out at the setting sun. The pink hues and puffy clouds blessing the sky welcome her new self into the world. Her boots crunch down on sharp blades of grass, and she breathes in crisp, sweet air that delights her nose and tongue. Birds sing overheard, circling the circus and casting their harmonies her way. One bluebird braves the wordless challenge and dares to sit upon her broad shoulder, its light bounces making its soft fur flutter as it comes closer to her cheek.

A gentle smile is granted for the bird's bravery. She brushes her index finger across the bird's head. She watches it fly, soaring to join companions in the sky to lands beyond her current grasp. Her grin stays even when they've all gone far, far away.

Her name is undecided, but the world will wait. Patience is a virtue in this realm. Arle will welcome her as a friend when they next meet. Her arms will be open, and she will hold her other half like a long lost twin sister. Old memories will resurface in her own head, but the past is sealed in blissful and painful memories for her to contemplate when the moon douses her in faintly glowing light. They may not know her, but she can easily rebuild the foundations of forgotten friendships.

 _In time,_ the former doppelganger surmises, _it'll all be okay._

She closes her eyes and baths herself in light, magic rising around her like bubbles. The golden orange rays guide her journey as she thanks and apologizes to Arle for all of the pain she had caused. Perhaps her words will reach Arle as she celebrates with the others, and wishful thinking is better than remaining silent. She leaves in a brisk flash of light, and although she is unsure where she will appear in his glorified land when she opens her eyes, hope blossoms within her like a velvet rose.

Her name is the start of her new beginnings, and when she decides upon it, the world and Arle Nadja will welcome her as she starts again, the pain of isolation and loss finally leaving her.


End file.
